Alen Kapidžić's Blog, page 2

Wintertide

Unbelievable Pictures of Frozen EuropeThere is a lot of fuss and debates about global warming, even the writing competitions start to appear. Is it human influence or it's just normal natural circle which we can't perceive because we have been collecting data for only couple of hundred years or maybe it is solar activities, or solar radiation, or magnetic storms or change in tilt of the earth's axis? We don't know yet for sure but whatever the cause is, the fact is that climate changes in front of our eyes.

I know that because when I was younger, the seasons were more stable, there weren't so many storms, so big oscillations in daily temperatures and so extreme weather. I hear a lot about rising temperature and that drought will strike us so we will have less and less drinking water, ice would melt and the sea level will rise. It looks like we are going to live in a much warmer world than we used to.

Five, six years ago (probably more :-)) I was surprised when I realised it was April and there was still snow in the mountains around Rijeka and that there was still a smell and taste of winter. In Croatia, on the northern part of the Adriatic coast where I live, we were used to the middle of spring in April spring – bees buzzin', yellow butterflies acting like they know where they flying, swallows nesting, sweet pollen in the air that is pleasantly warm, winter cold melting from our ankles and vitality running through our bodies, girls wearing shorter dresses and blouses and for the moment it looks like everything is OK. Even thought "Life is beautiful!" may cross our minds. On the first of May (a national holiday in Croatia celebrated as International Worker's Day), usually we would all wear t-shirts and even got first sunburns if we fall asleep in a meadow after barbecue and couple of beers. :-) But instead of half-dressed girls I'm looking at the mountains covered with snow and I'm still wearing a winter jacket, a scarf and a cap. Then thought crossed my mind: "What if global warming isn't about living in a warmer world but, instead, living in the Ice Age?"

That was the beginning of short story collection named Wintertide. I wrote three stories set in that world. Even one part of my novel Night by the River (currently in translation and it will be published in autumn if my translator comes home alive from Istanbul – I monitor her over the Facebook :-)) is set in that ice-frozen future city of Rijeka. One of those stories you can read on this blog here, or you can buy it here just to taste what this short story collection will look like or to support my writing. While you do that I'll keep writing new stories.

And remember that we are living in between two ice ages.

"Winter is not coming. Winter is here."

Stay frosty!

Dog days are over

I started.

Finally.

I wrote 600 words on Sunday in a couple of hours, and I wrote 120 words yesterday in one hour.

Advice "Write first – edit later." is a golden one. Before, I used to write and edit almost at the same time and it took me a lot of time to do it, it was a motivational killer and in the end it still needed editing. :-) So, just putting text on paper, even if you see that it could be written better while you typing, is a great thing! At least, it's a great thing for a rusty writer like me. The last short story I wrote six months ago and the short story before that – two years ago. So, to use "rusty" in this context is extremely benevolent and as for the "writer" I wouldn't even comment. Writers write. Right? Yeah, right!

Starting to write this blog was very encouraging to start produce fiction. A few more things got together – like explosion of e-books self-publishing and finding fellow writers with the same goal (thank you very much guys – you help me more than you can imagine! :-)) Final push I got from a reader who, after she read my short story collection, said to me in an e-mail:

I read your short story collection twice even though I have a lot of exams to study for. As I read, I could hardly wait for the end of every story because I knew that the end will cause the rush of ants running in my chest. At the same time, I didn't want for story to end so quickly! So I developed a tactic: I read very fast the whole story and then near the end I slowed down the reading so that end lasted longer than the whole story. And then, came that indescribable feeling! After every last sentence of every story! Then I read again, and even if I know what will happen, the same filing comes again! That's really something!

That's the power of readers!

(I think the worst thing a writer can do is to give his/hers work to family, fellow writers, critics, professors to read... Be in touch with your readers! Readers know! :-))

Thank you very, very much – dear Iva!

I'm back.

Behold!

:-)

Change

I have two dear friends, a couple, married with beautiful and sweet little daughter as all children are. They live in a fine house, on a fine spot and their all basic needs are met. They even have successful careers as much as something like that is possible in Croatia. They have friends, parents that are still alive, hobbies, two cars... I talked to them five months ago and I asked them how things are goin' and they replied not very well. Their relationship is crumbling apparently for no reason. I said that I understand that. This blog post goes for you guys. I hope you're still together and that you have found a way to settle "things".
So, what I understand?
I understand that feeling when it seems that all things are falling apart. I understand dissatisfaction and unbearable feeling of everyday life, frustration because things aren't the way they suppose to be. And I'm not talking about things I cannot influence like current government politics or catastrophic global economic situation or infant behavioural patterns of my closest working partners. I'm talking about things I can influence, I'm talking about things that only I can change. I'm talking about myself.
If we fail to do that, we'll – most probably – regress in state before the change with one catch. the change can't be undone, at least not completely. We can abort it's manifestation in the outside world but we can't ignore it inside. We can, of course, push it in the subconscious. If we do that, retract or fail to conduct the change in the outside world, we'll become – if we have a habit to blame ourselves – disappointed, sad from time to time or even depressed. If we have a habit to blame others, then we'll become bitter people, angry, cynical, and even aggressive. Joy in our lives, in both cases, will vanish in time and we'll slowly fade away. Probably in both cases we'll start to abuse alcohol or something else – drugs, sex, food or work because we need to forget what we have refused to do – to change ourselves, to change the way we live, to become something else then what we are now.
The Kubler Ross Change Curve

The change in many cases is not radical – we do not need to quit our jobs, get divorced, kill our mothers, go to the mountains, throw away iPhone or change our gender. Most likely it will manifest itself in small things – the way we talk to the people, the way we listen to them, the way we manage our daytime routine. In some cases we'll need to leave some people, in other we'll need to find some people. Maybe we'll watch less TV, change our eating habits or spend more time with the family. Or less. :-) That all depends on what needs to be changed and there is one more catch – to successfully conduct the change in our lives we need to get to the bottom of our motivation. We need to detect what is the root of our need to change – what needs to be changed and why. When we learn that, then we can decide how we'll do it right. The trick in all this is that when we recognise our dissatisfaction as urge for change, our defence mechanism will activate and mercilessly use everything at its disposal to stop the change. Confusion, fear, panic attacks, unwillingness, boredom, enthusiasm to do something completely useless for us – everything! How to recognise what is the plot of defence mechanism? Ask yourself: this what I'm doing, feeling and thinking right now – does it lead me to change my life for better or not? Am I constructive or destructive? 
How can we be sure we're on the right way? We can't. We need to try and made mistakes, trial and error – gather experience, become wiser. :-) 
Digression: Couple of weeks ago a reminiscence from my childhood struck me like a lightning: I'm trying to do something and I'm failing and trying again and again and again (I think at that time I called that: exploring). I realised at that moment that I have completely forget to try, fail, explore and, actually, learn new things. I realised that I haven't been doing that since I was in elementary school. Instead of doing things, making mistakes, keep doing it until I succeed i.e. exploring and learning (that's what all kids are doing all the time!), I'm acting like I know everything, I'm embarrassed when I don't know something and I'm hiding when I make mistake. And that is the only mistake. End of digression. :-)
If we manage to manoeuvre through all this and change what needs to be changed, there is one last catch – change is not permanent. Not in the way that we cannot regress anymore and not in a way "that's it!" Change comes in cycles and is everlasting because we are infinitely improvable.
:-) 
Happy changing!

How much would you pay?

Heya dear readers!

Usually I wouldn't write a post on this poll but, much as far as I know, this is the only way to get this poll on Goodreads. :-)

You can vote in this box on the right. Thank you very much for your effort. I know it's not much for you but certainly is for me. If you're reading this on Goodreads, please visit my blog and vote. Don't be surprised if the poll shows only few votes - bloody thing resets itself every few hours. I keep track of the votes in an excel sheet on my computer. Frustrating it is, yes. :-)

So, here's some information on the forthcoming short story collection. It will consist of eight stories between 500 and 4000 words long, all together around 15.500 words or 50 pages. So that you know what you buying - in numbers.

Few of the stories you can read on this blog under the tag writing . All the translation work was done by Petra Pintaric. Dear Petra, thank you very very much! It's been a pleasure to work with you. And, of course, there is Branko Antolic my brother-in-law, the typical Scorpio, who did the proofreading. Thanks, bro! That much about the quality.

Two of the stories are, actually, part of a still unwritten but soon-to-be (hopefully until fall; in worst case, until the end of the year - this year! :-)) collection of short stories set in the near future where the climate changes cause the short term extreme weather condition. You will hear more on that soon when I start to write it. :-)

Before the end of the post, few words about the title. Why Old stories? Well, they are all written in time before a smartphones and mobile internet. When was that? Now you know. :-)

And at the end, instead of a candy, a prize for you, dedicated readers, a cover!

Taraaaaaam!

A Handful of Rags

The cover is done! (All right, I admit - almost :-)). But all stories are translated and it is matter of week or two before I publish my first short story collection. I'm thrilled. A little. :-) 

So, to celebrate that in advance, I present you, dear readers, one story from collection. It's A Handful of Rags, a short story that won Zlatko Tomičić prize for best short story back in 2006.

Hope you'll enjoy it.

Here you go people: A Handful of Rags!

His jaw was clenched. His nostrils were flared. His eyes were devouring the monitor. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. His left hand was jerking rhythmically. He timed his climax for when the first squirt hit the garter belt and the stocking, but he missed. He squinted at the scene he had missed through half-closed eyes.

“Uuugh!” He was dizzy from the relief. His head hung. The sweat above his eyebrows dripped down his eyelid. The back of his chair squeaked.

Alt + F4 erased the window on his screen. The movie now seemed stupid to him.

***

“Hey, do you know that Eiffel invented the garter belt?”

“Bullshit!”


“No, really! I read it somewhere. His wife complained about her stockings constantly falling off so he decided to solve her problem.”

“Was that before or after he built the tower?”

“I have no idea. The text I read wasn’t about towers.”

They laughed.

“Why don’t you suggest that Maya buy some garter belts and stockings?”

“Are you insane!? Do you know what she’d say to me?”

“What?”

“I shit in your stocking!”

Laughter.

“No, really. Ask her. What? If that turns you on so much…”

“Yea right! She’d think I was some sort of maniac.”

***

He was drawing lines in the sand with his heel. His forehead revealed worry. The cheerful Hey! made him look up. Maya’s smile made him smile.

“Hi!” he replied, but there was no joy in his eyes. Their lips met softly.

“Are you okay?” she asked him right away.

“Yea,” he smiled a bigger smile to confirm that he was in a good mood. “Why?”

“You look a bit strange. You were staring at the ground…”

“No, no!” he interrupted her. “Everything’s good! What’s up with you?”

“Ugh! I almost went nuts in class today. I wanted to tell that cow in pantology to go to hell!”

“Why? What happened?”

“She was bullshitting too much! She explained to us that we have to attend classes and that we have no right to complain about the fact that they take attendance like they used to in primary school because the government finances our university education and that it’s our responsibility to attend lectures. And that when we pay for our education ourselves, then we’ll be allowed to come and go as we please, but for the time being, while the government is paying for our education, we have to attend lectures! And I thought, “Who finances this goddamn government and country? Who, Miss Know-it-all? Who? My mom and my dad who pay taxes, goddammit! That’s who! My parents work their asses off so that you can do your so-called scientific work and get paid! So don’t give me shit about the government paying for my education and having to attend classes!” I know what she’s afraid of. She’s shitting her pants because her course and her classes suck! That’s what she’s worried about! If she didn’t take attendance, no one would come to her lectures and then people would wonder what the point of her course even was. That’s what she’s worried about! Not about the government, the state, moral responsibility, paying for one’s education and shit like that. It’s her scientific ass that’s on the line! That’s what it is! Get it? I hate shit like that!”

“And? Did you tell her that?”

“No,” she put her hair behind her ear. “I thought about it, but didn’t…I kept my mouth shut like the rest of them.” The tone of her voice resembled a white flag.

“Probably better that you didn’t annoy her. You’d only have issues with her later.”

She dug out her cigarettes and lighter from her knitted backpack.

“Give me one, too.”

Yellow plastic. A flame. Smoke. He tapped his thumb on the filter and ashed his cigarette although there was nothing to ash.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…”

She raised her eyebrow. “What have you been thinking?”

“How long have we been together now?” he blurted out. “Two years?”

She looked at him. “And two months almost. Why do you ask?”

“Just because…”

“Is something wrong?” Her body quivered.

“No, no…”

“What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem…” He took a drag of his smoke.

“Victor! What is it?”

He scratched his head.

“Are you happy with our sex life?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you find it kind of boring?”

“Boring?”

“Wouldn’t you like to change something about it, maybe…”

“No. Would you?” She started shaking her leg.

“I don’t know…”

“Listen to me carefully!” She blew out the smoke and tossed her cigarette. “If you’re going to suggest something lame like group sex, I’m going to kick your ass1”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Well, what did you mean?”

“I just thought that you could maybe, here and there, put on some sexier clothes, you know?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… Well…” he pressed his lips together.

“Spit it out, Victor!”

“Stockings and a garter belt, you know?” He took a drag of his cigarette and waited for the verdict.

“You’re a total moron, you know that? I thought ‘who knows what he’s going to say now,’ but all you want is for me to wear some stockings and a garter belt. I can’t believe it!” She started laughing.

He felt like someone had poured pickle juice all over him.

“I’m such an idiot! That’s what I get for listening to Rogi!” he thought. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut and continued watching porn at home…”

“Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

“How much?”

“Too much for my student income. But…” she was having fun, “if you want me to wear them, then buy them for me.”

“You’d wear them if I bought them?” he said happily.

“Yes.”

Victor’s happiness was at an all-time high. It was the best day of his life.

***

“These garters and stockings are expensive! Fuck!” stated Victor.

“Really?”

“40 euro!”

“Listen, the pleasures in life are expensive if you have to pay for them,” Rogi said wisely.

Yea, just you philosophize! What do you care?”

They watched the ducks under the bridge.

“So? When are you going shopping?”

“Yea, make fun… Sure!”

“I’m serious!”

“I don’t know. I thought I was going to have an issue with getting the money, but now that I’ve gotten it… Yesterday I went to all the stores in the center of town and window shopped.”

“Why didn’t you go in?”

“I don’t know!”

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

“I’m embarrassed, fuck!”

“What are you embarrassed about? To go in and buy some garters?”

“Yea…”

“You’re insane! Just go into one of the fucking shops and buy them!”

“But I’m embarrassed. Why don’t you go?” he pleaded.

“I’m not buying fucking garters for you! Go buy them yourself if you like them so much!”

“You’re such a dick!” he said to his buddy.

“Go fuck yourself!”

***

He waited for all the people to leave the store and quickly walked in. He felt all eyes on him. The sales lady avoided small talk.

“How can I help you?”

“Well… I’d like to buy some… Umm… Garters and stockings,” he said in a shaky voice, as though he was lacking air.

“What kind?”

“Black ones,” he exhaled.

“We have a few different models. Let me show you…”

“That won’t be necessary! Just give me those on the mannequin.”

“What size?”

He gawked.

“What size?” asked the sales lady again.

His ears went red.

“Just a second.”

He walked out of the store.

“What size are you?” he drooled into his cell phone.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean? The garter belt! Fuck!”

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Why are you fucking with me!?”

“I’m not fucking with you! What’s wrong with you? Are you nuts?”

He inhaled.

“Okay, okay… Please just tell me what size garter belt you wear.”

“Are you buying me a garter?”

He could hear her smiling over the phone.

“No. I’m buying bananas. Don’t tease me now. I’m next in line.”

She giggled. He felt sick to his stomach.

***
She walked in smiling. If he could have noticed, he would have seen that she was slightly embarrassed. She wore a démodé bathrobe and walked across the room to the closet door, to the mirror. She stood there, her legs slightly apart. She moved her hips slightly, leaning from one leg to the other. Victor licked his dry lips, biting his lower lip. His heart was racing. She untied the knot on her bathrobe and opened it up.

“That’s what I’m talking about!!!” he thought. He fixed his eyes on the lace and the nylon. Everything else seemed to cease to exist. His heartbeat beat the world record.

Victor took a deep breath. He seemed to have inhaled all the air in the room.

His fascination interested Maya and she again leaned on one leg, then the other, watching his stare, which meandered like a hypnotized cobra. She felt the excitement. Her breathing became heavier. She put one hip forward seductively. Victor watched her. She felt warmth on her lower stomach. She let the robe fall to the floor.

Victor caught a glance of himself in the mirror.

It wasn’t him. Someone else was watching him through his eyes. Someone that looked very much like him, but was totally unfamiliar to him. The Victor he knew never looked like this. Obsessed, confused, and distorted. He looked at Maya, then at the garter, then at Maya again, then at himself. The floor creaked under his weight.

“What… What is it?” she asked insecurely.

“Nothing,” he replied as he stood behind her.

He fiddled with the clasps and finally took off the garter and the stockings. She stood there, confused.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he replied as he threw the handful of rags into the garbage.

Do you realize?

After work, few months ago, I stopped by my very dear friend's office to see her only to find out that she is not at work because her granddad died and she is on his funeral. I called her. Of course she couldn't reply so I texted her. Couple of minutes later she texted me back and then the realization that one man is gone for good struck me.
I didn't need to recall the death and funeral of my grandma that was two years ago, I just let realization to open me. That man is gone and that will happen to me and to all the people I know. We’ll all go. We will all die. No one will survive life. And the last man who will die in my life would be me.
To even start to get a grasp on the fact that I will disappear is very hard. That is completely out of the rational understanding. My ratio tells me that I was always here, all the time and so it is unimaginable that one day I'll be gone. Erased. Nullified. Gone. Vanished into thin air. Like I have never been here. 
But I will.
That is the only thing I can be sure of. 
Only I don't know when.
Having that in mind the question I'm asking myself is: What's the point? What is the point of having children when I'll disappear? Or writing a book? Or get married? Or earn million bucks? Or fuck the playmate of the month? Or be virtues? Or achieve anything or lose everything? What's the point? Why bother if I'll die in the end. All these goals and achievements that our culture currently propagates so eagerly are completely insignificant compared to death. I'm sure that is the reason why death and elders are removed from mass media, why we live in culture of youth, beauty, fun and leisure. I strongly believe that is also the reason why all that Twilight saga bullshit is so popular. We will live forever, young and beautiful (even if that means we'll rip other people's throats and drink their blood, suck their life – ultimate selfishness).
I don't think life by itself has a meaning. It's like we discuss what the meaning of wolf's life is? A Wolf's life doesn't have a meaning. The meaning is beyond wolf's understanding. The wolf couldn't even pose that question. The wolf's life is just life and he does what his instincts order him to do (and newagers call that freedom – Jesus Christ!). There is no meaning in a wolf's life. So, there is no meaning in our lives too. Life is life and that's it. There is no meaning in life. Meaning of life is to live (and die in the end :-)). And that's it. If we want meaning – we need to give it to life.
The last sentences of my friend's grandpa were: "Do not sue the driver. The man isn't guilty." He was run over by a driver who was blinded by the morning sun and didn't see an old man crossing the street."Take care of each other. Don't argue with each other." He said that to his wife and daughter."I'm sorry I didn't make a will." He had poor pension and didn't have any wealth.
On the other hand, my friend was in the hospital and doctors couldn't agree what's wrong with him. So he asked, after couple of weeks sitting in the dark. One of the doctors told him he had cancer and he wouldn't live more than a few months (in his opinion, of course). It was a wrong diagnosis but my friend realized that he will die. So, after a long night of thinking, in the morning he picked up the phone and started to call all of his ex-girlfriends to apologise for being an asshole.  
Does the understanding of our mortality gives meaning to our lives or makes us better people? Don't know. My experience after 3 months of everyday meditation on death and impermanence is that it has broken my heart. At least cracked it. Suddenly, I realise that I have no time and that only thing I need to do is to change. Not myself, not the others, not the job but the way I live. Did I realise that I’ll die? Not quite. Have I found the meaning of life? Of course not. Had I become better person? Don’t know. Maybe. 
But it’s a start.

The Flaming Lips - Do You Realize from matt wissing on Vimeo.

J.C. Oates about writer's block

Amazon buys Goodreads

Here is the announcement.

Don't like it.

Why?

I've read an article about a women who's account was deleted (with all e-books she bought!) because Amazon found out she is a friend of a guy who was pirating Amazon's e-books. Also, my experience with publishing on Amazon is not satisfying. First, when I uploaded my short story, they send me an e-mail where they informed me that the same content I'm trying to publish on Amazon is also available somewhere on the web (on my blog and on my Smashword page, thank you) and that I need to explain them why and where that content is. And secondly, I priced my short story 0,99 and when I went to Amazon, I saw it was 2,99. When I asked why is that, Amazon replied:

The price is high in your place because of the extra taxes and operating costs implied by the government.

When I asked why Kobo and Smashwords didn't put higher prices, they replied:

I'm sorry; we are unable to assist you, regarding, your inquiry about the application of taxes on Smashwords and Kobo, you'll have to contact them for better assistance.

Then I asked if my royalties will be higher because the higher price, they replied:

Your royalties will be paid based on the price you've selected for your book and not what the customers have paid.

Very interesting.

It seems that big corporation like Amazon can do whatever it wants with his customers, no law protects you. Their way or the highway. And now they bought Goodreads, a social network that was proud of incorruptible and true reviews of books made by their members. Amazon who reluctantly did something to prevent false and malicious reviews on their own pages (here for more details).

That's why I don't like it. Too much power concentrated in one place and main motivation is to make more money. Hope that Jeff Bezos will soon discover that people who use Amazon for buying and selling e-books are not there because they want Amazon to make more and more money but to make this planet better place for people who want to read and for those who want to write.

Interview with Smashwords founder Mark Coker

Since I'm using Smashwords platform for publishing I said to myself:

"All right, who the hell that Mark Coker guy is?" 

So I went on You Tube and search for him. I want to see him and hear him. And I did. What I saw is a guy who has a vision, courage and faith. Check for yourself:

I do not fear death

If that so, why are we paralysed with fear when we think about our death?

It seems like we are going to lose something.

What?

Life?

Chance?

Chance for what?

It's been said that people much more regret for things they didn't do then for things they did.

Are we, actually, afraid of life? Of living?

And what really means to live?

Aren't we doing that all the time?